This has come up with my nephew and his mother-in-law on Facebook recently, and this story is too good not to tell again.
My dad used to pick Michael and his brother up at daycare and they'd spend a couple of hours at the house until his mom or dad could pick them up before dinner time.
One afternoon, I was making tacos or something for dinner and Michael saw me shaking chili powder into the pan. He asked what it was and I said something about it being spices for what I was making for dinner that night. Then he asked if he could have some.
Me: "You want to try the spices?"
Michael: "Yes."
Me: "It's spicy. You might not like it."
Michael: "I wanna try."
So I gave him a little bit in the palm of his hand which he picked up on his fingers and put in his mouth. And then he toddled away.
A few minutes later, he came back, asking for more.
Me: "More? Are you sure?"
Michael: "Yes."
So I gave him a little more. Maybe 1/16 teaspoon. Enough for a couple of good licks, but not enough to make him sick. And he happily toddled away.
A few minutes after that, he came back, asking for even more.
Me: "Really? You're sure you want more?"
Michael: "Yes."
At which point I looked at the clock. His father was not more than 5-10 minutes away. And I thought "Well, not my kid." and so I gave him more. Probably about 1/4 teaspoon. It looked like a lot for a little guy, but wasn't really a lot by culinary standards.
And, as I said, not my kid.
I *think* I told his father when he came to pick him up. I know I *meant* to.
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Thursday, 12 April 2012
Crowdsourcing my course planning
I’m planning a seminar for the Winter term next year on “Prosody in Phonology and Phonetics” or something like that. This started out as a seminar specifically on intonation and ‘general’ prosodic issues of ‘chunking’ like phrase-final lengthening, boundary tones, and different approaches to ‘question intonation’, focus, etc., but it turns out we need it to stand in for a graduate-level (general) phonology course, so there has to be some ‘standard’ phonology in there somewhere.
So broadly, I plan to do a broad introduction/review of ‘standard’ features, ‘natural classes’, and ‘common processes’ (assimilation, syllabic lengthening/shortening, devoicing, and so on), and then move on to prosody, and use interactions of prosodic stuff and segmental stuff (especially Jun 1998 for Korean) as my 'punchline'. I’d like to take a ‘broadly historical’ viewpoint—i.e. a few readings addressing development of ideas, and spending class time arriving at a generic ‘big picture’ appreciation for current thinking.
I need some help coming up with a reader of articles. Ideally, I’d like to have 2-4 articles in each of the following topics. (subtopics are just my ideas of what might be covered under such a heading, with possible papers where I have a specific idea).
Any thoughts on a) my list and b) what articles I should have (both generally and ‘how on earth can you let them get away with not reading X’)? Please comment or message as appropriate. Any ideas welcome, both about topics/subtopics and readings.
Segments, syllables and timing
- Segments and syllables (do we need both?)
- Skeletal (CV or X slot) style timing vs moraic timing (possibly Hubbard, if I can find something appropriate)
- Maybe some feature geometry, root nodes and how they fit with the skeleton and timing, but mostly to set up autosegmental tone (see below)
- Quantity (long-short, light-heavy) representations (and uses)
Prominence
- Lexical-metrical trees/grids (a la Hayes, Hammond, Prince…)
- Phrasal prominence, deriving a prosodic hierarchy (or what I usually try to call ‘a phonological parse)—probably Liberman & Prince
- Something bridging focus/emphasis/etc as prominence and the intonational literature (early Pierrehumbertian ‘nuclear’ accents and deaccenting, etc.)
Intonation
- Pierrehumbert’s jump from lexical tone to phrasal tone
- Intonational meaning (Pierrehumbert & Hirschberg 1990)
- Development of ToBI style transcriptions and representations (possibly Hayes & Lahiri (1989), Beckman & Pierrehumbert (1986),
- General introduction to ToBI transcriptions conventions (I may write this myself at the level I’m comfortable with)
Interactions of prosody/intonation and ‘segmental’ phenomenal (I think of this as my punchline)
- Domain-final devoicing (in Turkish?, Slavic? Germanic?)
- Domain-final lengthening
- Domain of segmental rules—Hayes & Lahiri (again), Korean (Jun 1998), Slave (Rice 1987), others?
(Possibly) Affected/dysfunctional prosody?
- Prosodic interruption in TBI, aphasia, etc (Ben?)
- Prosody in typically and atypically developing infants
- Cross-linguistic/typological comparisons of prosodic/intonational systems?
I don’t plan to do anything specific about the ‘British School’ and other alternatives to autosegmental-metrical/ToBI style representations, downstep/downdrift; but I expect one student or other with more knowledge of that kind of thing will follow up in their own final projects. Similalry, I have enough students who I know are interested in disordered communication that someone will want to follow up on that sort of thing, it might be worth doing a ‘formal unit’ on the topic, but it’s not something I really feel like I need to do in this class. But if there are good papers available….
I also haven't read the new Prosodic Typology volume (Jun, ed.), but it's on the list. Now that we're in the new fiscal year, I should probably get to ordering that...
Thoughts?
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Shopping list and cold season
This post is (as usual) a weird mishmash of musings.
A brief Facebook exchange with a casual friend reminded me of my need to go to a liquor store. I need to go to the liquor store for two reasons. Maybe three. First, I need liquor. For my mother's sore throat tonic (recipe to follow). Second, I need liquor. Peppermint Schnapps, Kahlua, Amaretto or Goldschlager, or somthing like that, to go into my hot chocolate in the evening. Third, I may need a couple bottles of red wine, to make my all-purpose Italian-style meat sauce.
So, I need my throat tonic. I need it because I did something to my epiglottis Christmas night/Boxing day morning. Woke up with a sharp pain down the left side of my pharynx when I swallowed. Over the next couple of days, and to this day, it has moderated to a dull lumpy feeling on the back of my tongue. I think I did something to my epiglottis. I'm thinking it had to so with the very dry air, since starting the humidifier and over-loading the reservoir on the CPAP machine has helped a lot. But pre-SSRI Rob would be having a serious anxiety attack over this thing he can feel on the back of his tongue.
But anyway, my mother had two liquor based home remedies which it always amuses me to share with people. The first was for teething babies. She would get a glass, fill it with ice, pour whatever liquor my dad had in the house over the ice. She would then wrap a clean dish towel or something over her finger, dip it in the cold liquor and rub it on the fussy baby's gums. Then she would take a sip of liquor. Then she'd rub more on the baby's gums. And take another sip. I don't know if it helped with the teething pain, but by the bottom of the glass neither she or the baby seemed to care much any more.
I think my mother's sore throat tonic works on a similar theory. It consists of equal parts honey (with its soothing and anticeptic qualities), lemon juice (with its anticeptic qualities) and liquor. Mix to combine.
Seriously. I used to get this in a baby bottle as a kid.
The idea was to use a squeezey bottle or something to squirt it into your throat. Liquor is slightly anaesthetic, honey is soothing, and all three are antiseptic. So good for your sore throat. In graduate school I graduated from the baby bottle to just two teaspoonfuls every hour or so as needed. Then I figured out I could put a tablespoon or two in some hot tea and have very happy-making hot tea toddy thing for when I was sick.
So I need to go to the liquor store. And the grocery store. Because of my sore epiglottis.
A brief Facebook exchange with a casual friend reminded me of my need to go to a liquor store. I need to go to the liquor store for two reasons. Maybe three. First, I need liquor. For my mother's sore throat tonic (recipe to follow). Second, I need liquor. Peppermint Schnapps, Kahlua, Amaretto or Goldschlager, or somthing like that, to go into my hot chocolate in the evening. Third, I may need a couple bottles of red wine, to make my all-purpose Italian-style meat sauce.
So, I need my throat tonic. I need it because I did something to my epiglottis Christmas night/Boxing day morning. Woke up with a sharp pain down the left side of my pharynx when I swallowed. Over the next couple of days, and to this day, it has moderated to a dull lumpy feeling on the back of my tongue. I think I did something to my epiglottis. I'm thinking it had to so with the very dry air, since starting the humidifier and over-loading the reservoir on the CPAP machine has helped a lot. But pre-SSRI Rob would be having a serious anxiety attack over this thing he can feel on the back of his tongue.
But anyway, my mother had two liquor based home remedies which it always amuses me to share with people. The first was for teething babies. She would get a glass, fill it with ice, pour whatever liquor my dad had in the house over the ice. She would then wrap a clean dish towel or something over her finger, dip it in the cold liquor and rub it on the fussy baby's gums. Then she would take a sip of liquor. Then she'd rub more on the baby's gums. And take another sip. I don't know if it helped with the teething pain, but by the bottom of the glass neither she or the baby seemed to care much any more.
I think my mother's sore throat tonic works on a similar theory. It consists of equal parts honey (with its soothing and anticeptic qualities), lemon juice (with its anticeptic qualities) and liquor. Mix to combine.
Seriously. I used to get this in a baby bottle as a kid.
The idea was to use a squeezey bottle or something to squirt it into your throat. Liquor is slightly anaesthetic, honey is soothing, and all three are antiseptic. So good for your sore throat. In graduate school I graduated from the baby bottle to just two teaspoonfuls every hour or so as needed. Then I figured out I could put a tablespoon or two in some hot tea and have very happy-making hot tea toddy thing for when I was sick.
So I need to go to the liquor store. And the grocery store. Because of my sore epiglottis.
Sunday, 18 December 2011
A thought
I label it 'thinking'.
No, this was just something that was too long for a tweet and too long as a status update on Facebook, so now it's a blog post.
Remember in the old days when comic book editors throught we needed little arrows to tell us what sequence the panels on a comic book page were supposed to come in?
Remember a little later when letterers artfully used sound effects, narration, and word and thought balloons to guide us to the next panel?
I miss those days. Is it just me or has comic book story-telling, by which I mean 'layout', or 'pencilling' depending on the artist, just become completely anarchic and confusing? Also chase scenes in movies, but that's the subject of another rant altogether. (This one, in fact: http://vimeo.com/28792404).
No, this was just something that was too long for a tweet and too long as a status update on Facebook, so now it's a blog post.
Remember in the old days when comic book editors throught we needed little arrows to tell us what sequence the panels on a comic book page were supposed to come in?
Remember a little later when letterers artfully used sound effects, narration, and word and thought balloons to guide us to the next panel?
I miss those days. Is it just me or has comic book story-telling, by which I mean 'layout', or 'pencilling' depending on the artist, just become completely anarchic and confusing? Also chase scenes in movies, but that's the subject of another rant altogether. (This one, in fact: http://vimeo.com/28792404).
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
A moment of blazing insight
I just had to share this story of me being very proud of myself.
Last night, I was prepping a lecture about tone for my General Phonetics class. And I decided, as long as I was doing it, to put together a chart of "all" the ways people have to indicate tone. The class is about the IPA, so of course we have to talk about Chao tone letters, but Chinese scholarship doesn't often use those, so I decided to take a sample of some of the other ways.
So the point was I was looking at a lot of Chinese on the web yesterday, and happily plagia--cop--er, um, making use of the information available in my chart. And so I lifted some Chinese characters from somewhere to use in my chart.
The four Mandarin tones are illustrated with the set "mother" "hemp" "horse" and "scold", which are all the syllable "ma" with different tones attached. I will spare you the rest of the story, to get to the proud moment part.
I'm looking at my chart, and I notice that the character for "horse" can't be right. I notice that the character, 麻, as two 'plant' radicals in it. I know this because in my last name 'hagi' also has a plant radical in it. So this must in fact be the character for "hemp".
So I do some more checking and I'm right. That's the character for hemp. For the record, I have no idea about the other three symbols, since they seem to all share a radical, 馬, which seems to be "horse". So I'm betting "mother" and "scold" are wrong. Hmm.
But for one blazing moment, I'd recognized the plant radical!!!
Hey, I take my victories where I can get them these days.
Last night, I was prepping a lecture about tone for my General Phonetics class. And I decided, as long as I was doing it, to put together a chart of "all" the ways people have to indicate tone. The class is about the IPA, so of course we have to talk about Chao tone letters, but Chinese scholarship doesn't often use those, so I decided to take a sample of some of the other ways.
So the point was I was looking at a lot of Chinese on the web yesterday, and happily plagia--cop--er, um, making use of the information available in my chart. And so I lifted some Chinese characters from somewhere to use in my chart.
The four Mandarin tones are illustrated with the set "mother" "hemp" "horse" and "scold", which are all the syllable "ma" with different tones attached. I will spare you the rest of the story, to get to the proud moment part.
I'm looking at my chart, and I notice that the character for "horse" can't be right. I notice that the character, 麻, as two 'plant' radicals in it. I know this because in my last name 'hagi' also has a plant radical in it. So this must in fact be the character for "hemp".
So I do some more checking and I'm right. That's the character for hemp. For the record, I have no idea about the other three symbols, since they seem to all share a radical, 馬, which seems to be "horse". So I'm betting "mother" and "scold" are wrong. Hmm.
But for one blazing moment, I'd recognized the plant radical!!!
Hey, I take my victories where I can get them these days.
Monday, 17 October 2011
Footie socks are a waste
So remember the dead car battery adventure, which ended with me buying socks at 8:30pm that night.
Part of the need for socks was the at-the-time-impending cooler weather, which would eventually necessitate the wearing of actual shoes. Which would necessitate the wearing of actual socks. So I bought socks.
Well, I thought I was so smart. For the 'transitional' weather, when it's too warm to warrant actual socks, but still necessary to wear shoes, for instance in the rain, I bought footie socks. I don't know what else to call them. Sock things that cover your feet but don't even come up over your ankle. Footie socks.
Except footie socks suck. You barely get them on and into your shoes when they start to come down. You take two steps and they've popped over your heel and if you don't stop and pull them back up/on they begin to wedge themselves into the toe of your shoes. Which hardly is the point. If you have to use surgical tape to tape them onto your feet so they stay on, it's time to find another kind of sock.
So I've just decided to junk them. Off to Goodwill, or at least the bag of vaguely clean clothes that will end up at Goodwill, or a handy Salvation Army bin or something like that. Stupid footie socks. Never again.
Part of the need for socks was the at-the-time-impending cooler weather, which would eventually necessitate the wearing of actual shoes. Which would necessitate the wearing of actual socks. So I bought socks.
Well, I thought I was so smart. For the 'transitional' weather, when it's too warm to warrant actual socks, but still necessary to wear shoes, for instance in the rain, I bought footie socks. I don't know what else to call them. Sock things that cover your feet but don't even come up over your ankle. Footie socks.
Except footie socks suck. You barely get them on and into your shoes when they start to come down. You take two steps and they've popped over your heel and if you don't stop and pull them back up/on they begin to wedge themselves into the toe of your shoes. Which hardly is the point. If you have to use surgical tape to tape them onto your feet so they stay on, it's time to find another kind of sock.
So I've just decided to junk them. Off to Goodwill, or at least the bag of vaguely clean clothes that will end up at Goodwill, or a handy Salvation Army bin or something like that. Stupid footie socks. Never again.
Friday, 23 September 2011
Adventures in Healthcare and Automobile Ownership
Wow, a double-whammy post!
Okay, first healthcare. I seem to have neglected to post about the latest Unpleasant Medical Procedure, so here's the story. I forget what I have blogged about, so here it is in a nutshell.
Apparently I'm going anemic. Since I seem to have a 'normal' diet, from the point of view of not obviously having no source of iron, the only obvious reason for me to be going anemic is to be bleeding somewhere. But countless occult blood screenings, two colonoscopies and a gastroscopy later, there is no evidence of bleeding. (They only worry about GI bleeding because if you're just bleeding internally, there may be many problems, but in the end you don't lose the iron and it reabsorbs.) So off to the hematologist.
Hematologist looks at everything and does a sternal aspiration, which is basically punching a hole in your sternum and sucking out some marrow with a syringe. Marrow is normal except for "absent iron stores". Which according to the doctor is good news. a) I don't have leukemia or something and b) I'm using all the iron I take in. So, says the hematologist, the only reason to be anemic is to be bleeding somewhere. Hematologist orders an upper GI/small intestine X-ray series, and a trip to the GI doctor again.
GI doctor says I'm not bleeding anywhere, and if I were there wasn't a lot they could do about it considering I'm not anemic enough to really bother. Also there would be no end of Unpleasant Medical Procedures, although we could do that if I (or the hematologist) really, really wanted. (The one thing he suggested was basically swallowing a capsule containing a tiny camera, which sounded, cool, if Unpleasant.) My hemoglobin was up slightly the last time I saw the GI guy, so maybe, says he, I'm just one of those people who don't absorb iron properly. Continue supplementing and if something happens we can try again with the Unpleasant Medical Procedures.
Meantime, the hematologist has scheduled the Xray series. So here's how that goes. Actually not a lot of unpleasant prep, relative to the unpleasant prep done for the colonoscopy. But there's an early trip to the hospital, with all the attendant sitting around. Meantime one of the X-ray machines has gone down again (this is the rescheduled appointment from the last time it broke), so things are taking longer than they should anyway.
First step, upper GI. Swallow a big cup of milky barium stuff. It's a lot like in Curious George. It's sort of thick milk/thin milkshake consistency, vaguely sweet and chalky. There's also a teaspoon or so of stuff that turns to fizzy gas when it gets wet, so best to just knock it back and have a tiny sip of water to make sure it doesn't just sit in your throat.
Then you kind of stand on a platform with a backboard and they shoot xrays through you, into some kind of video system that the radiologist is monitoring. Then there's the tilting of the table back and you rolling around at odd angles so the radiologist can see your esophagus, stomach and duodenum in all their radio-opaque and gas-filled glory.
Then there's more sitting around while they figure out that they're going to have to move everyone through the one x-ray suite (have you noticed I'm not sure I know the modern way to spell x-ray?). Then there's a bigger, thicker volume of barium to swallow and a 20 minute wait. Then they take you into the suite, have you lie belly-down on a table while they try to take an x-ray. Since you're the first one in this suite this morning it takes them a while to figure out what's going on. But they do it, they leave you there while they develop a quick film to make sure they have a image. This happens a couple of times, since the first couple of times they don't get a decent image. Then you go and sit for another 20 minutes while they do all this to someone else, before they call you back.
At some point, the barium moves from your upper GI tract into your small intestine and then the real fun begins. Because you (I) are a wide individual, it actually takes two xrays (one panned slightly left, one right) to get decent images of your small bowel. But they do them and then you go sit for another 20 minutes and then they do it again.
This goes on until, by minute 100 (according to the report) the barium has cleared your ileocecal valve (the junction of your small and large intestine) and clearly begins heading up your ascending colon. Then you're done.
Yes, that was the nutshell version.
So fast forward to day, which is the follow up with the hematologist. Turns out, I have a "moderate" hiatal hernia, but no reflux identified. That's the entire pathology. Lucky for me, the hematologist believes that this could explain the anemia. In spite of still not having any evidence of actual bleeding anywhere, and anyway, it's before my stomach and so there should be time to reabsorb the iron, but whatever. No more hematologist necessary. According to hematologist, which is fine with me I guess. I mean, how many specialist can I juggle?
So update on the new car. It's so cool. I love it. some stuff I'm still not used to, like the shape of the bucket seat, but basically, I'm very happy. Except...
A couple of times the last couple of weeks, I've had trouble starting. "Click click click, but no vrooom vroom vroom
Monday night I was at school late and stopped off at Safeway on the way home. Get back in the car. "click click click" but no "vroom vroom vroom', Which goes on. And on. It got to the point that the guys in the store noticed the guy in the blue car who's been trying to start his car.
So I call CAA, tow truck comes and takes the car to the dealership. Since the whole point of buying a new car was to have all kinds of expensive warranties on it, I figure let the dealership deal with it.
Tuesday morning, I call the dealership to make sure a) they got the car and b) they got my weird call the night before about everything that went wrong. They did. Yay.
So now what? the plan for Tuesday was to go to breakfast somewhere and do some work before, possibly, not going into the office at all. Well, that goes out the window. So in the first significant rain of the season, I trudge to the bus stop and take the bus to school. Where, it must be said, I was more productive than I thought I would be, but never got to the task I meant to do at breakfast.
So at about 2:30, I'm finally ready to start that, and that's when the dealership calls. Car's ready. Battery failed (any body remember when they couldn't get the batter to charge when I bought the thing?), so they replaced it. No charge. Gotta love warranties.
So around 3pm, I dash into my Head's office and say, "My car's ready. Do I stay and try to get some work done, or do I go pick up the car and go somewhere else to get some work done." He enthusiastically endorsed the second option. So I did.
Cool. Until Thursday afternoon, when once again faced with waning productivity at home, I decided to take a quick break and dash out for socks and comic books. Yes, that's what I said. But what do I discover? Apparently, I've left my lights on all night and my brand new battery is completely dead.
After dithering for about half an hour, trying to find someone with booster cables, I decide that this is why I have a CAA membership. CAA says that 'the battery people' are busy and it could be two hours, but if I want a regular truck just for the jumpstart, that should be at most an hour. So that's what I do.
Only, without stretching out the story any more, it takes about 2 and a half hours for the guy to appear and jump my car. Which he does, very efficiently. Can't help but wonder if I'd chosen the battery guys they might have made it in the hour. But whatever. Point is, afternoon and evening totally shot as a result of having to drive the car for 20 minutes to get the battery partially charged again. Took the opportunity to drive to Canadian Tire to buy a portable battery booster pack, since I figure if this happened once, it's going to happen Again. Also stopped to buy socks.
So by the time I get home, it's 8pm and I need to get ready for bed so I have a hope of getting up to have some blood work done at 8am so I can see the hematologist (see above) at 8:30.
It's been a long week. But never let it be said I don't get my money out of my CAA membership (readers of this blog will recall my two lockouts in 10 days over the summer). Also never let it be said I don't get my money's worth out of the Canadian healthcare system. Although I'm pretty sure I've now been exposed to more radiation in one day than I have in my whole previous life. But whatever. Hiatal hernia. Car that starts. All is well.
Okay, first healthcare. I seem to have neglected to post about the latest Unpleasant Medical Procedure, so here's the story. I forget what I have blogged about, so here it is in a nutshell.
Apparently I'm going anemic. Since I seem to have a 'normal' diet, from the point of view of not obviously having no source of iron, the only obvious reason for me to be going anemic is to be bleeding somewhere. But countless occult blood screenings, two colonoscopies and a gastroscopy later, there is no evidence of bleeding. (They only worry about GI bleeding because if you're just bleeding internally, there may be many problems, but in the end you don't lose the iron and it reabsorbs.) So off to the hematologist.
Hematologist looks at everything and does a sternal aspiration, which is basically punching a hole in your sternum and sucking out some marrow with a syringe. Marrow is normal except for "absent iron stores". Which according to the doctor is good news. a) I don't have leukemia or something and b) I'm using all the iron I take in. So, says the hematologist, the only reason to be anemic is to be bleeding somewhere. Hematologist orders an upper GI/small intestine X-ray series, and a trip to the GI doctor again.
GI doctor says I'm not bleeding anywhere, and if I were there wasn't a lot they could do about it considering I'm not anemic enough to really bother. Also there would be no end of Unpleasant Medical Procedures, although we could do that if I (or the hematologist) really, really wanted. (The one thing he suggested was basically swallowing a capsule containing a tiny camera, which sounded, cool, if Unpleasant.) My hemoglobin was up slightly the last time I saw the GI guy, so maybe, says he, I'm just one of those people who don't absorb iron properly. Continue supplementing and if something happens we can try again with the Unpleasant Medical Procedures.
Meantime, the hematologist has scheduled the Xray series. So here's how that goes. Actually not a lot of unpleasant prep, relative to the unpleasant prep done for the colonoscopy. But there's an early trip to the hospital, with all the attendant sitting around. Meantime one of the X-ray machines has gone down again (this is the rescheduled appointment from the last time it broke), so things are taking longer than they should anyway.
First step, upper GI. Swallow a big cup of milky barium stuff. It's a lot like in Curious George. It's sort of thick milk/thin milkshake consistency, vaguely sweet and chalky. There's also a teaspoon or so of stuff that turns to fizzy gas when it gets wet, so best to just knock it back and have a tiny sip of water to make sure it doesn't just sit in your throat.
Then you kind of stand on a platform with a backboard and they shoot xrays through you, into some kind of video system that the radiologist is monitoring. Then there's the tilting of the table back and you rolling around at odd angles so the radiologist can see your esophagus, stomach and duodenum in all their radio-opaque and gas-filled glory.
Then there's more sitting around while they figure out that they're going to have to move everyone through the one x-ray suite (have you noticed I'm not sure I know the modern way to spell x-ray?). Then there's a bigger, thicker volume of barium to swallow and a 20 minute wait. Then they take you into the suite, have you lie belly-down on a table while they try to take an x-ray. Since you're the first one in this suite this morning it takes them a while to figure out what's going on. But they do it, they leave you there while they develop a quick film to make sure they have a image. This happens a couple of times, since the first couple of times they don't get a decent image. Then you go and sit for another 20 minutes while they do all this to someone else, before they call you back.
At some point, the barium moves from your upper GI tract into your small intestine and then the real fun begins. Because you (I) are a wide individual, it actually takes two xrays (one panned slightly left, one right) to get decent images of your small bowel. But they do them and then you go sit for another 20 minutes and then they do it again.
This goes on until, by minute 100 (according to the report) the barium has cleared your ileocecal valve (the junction of your small and large intestine) and clearly begins heading up your ascending colon. Then you're done.
Yes, that was the nutshell version.
So fast forward to day, which is the follow up with the hematologist. Turns out, I have a "moderate" hiatal hernia, but no reflux identified. That's the entire pathology. Lucky for me, the hematologist believes that this could explain the anemia. In spite of still not having any evidence of actual bleeding anywhere, and anyway, it's before my stomach and so there should be time to reabsorb the iron, but whatever. No more hematologist necessary. According to hematologist, which is fine with me I guess. I mean, how many specialist can I juggle?
So update on the new car. It's so cool. I love it. some stuff I'm still not used to, like the shape of the bucket seat, but basically, I'm very happy. Except...
A couple of times the last couple of weeks, I've had trouble starting. "Click click click, but no vrooom vroom vroom
Monday night I was at school late and stopped off at Safeway on the way home. Get back in the car. "click click click" but no "vroom vroom vroom', Which goes on. And on. It got to the point that the guys in the store noticed the guy in the blue car who's been trying to start his car.
So I call CAA, tow truck comes and takes the car to the dealership. Since the whole point of buying a new car was to have all kinds of expensive warranties on it, I figure let the dealership deal with it.
Tuesday morning, I call the dealership to make sure a) they got the car and b) they got my weird call the night before about everything that went wrong. They did. Yay.
So now what? the plan for Tuesday was to go to breakfast somewhere and do some work before, possibly, not going into the office at all. Well, that goes out the window. So in the first significant rain of the season, I trudge to the bus stop and take the bus to school. Where, it must be said, I was more productive than I thought I would be, but never got to the task I meant to do at breakfast.
So at about 2:30, I'm finally ready to start that, and that's when the dealership calls. Car's ready. Battery failed (any body remember when they couldn't get the batter to charge when I bought the thing?), so they replaced it. No charge. Gotta love warranties.
So around 3pm, I dash into my Head's office and say, "My car's ready. Do I stay and try to get some work done, or do I go pick up the car and go somewhere else to get some work done." He enthusiastically endorsed the second option. So I did.
Cool. Until Thursday afternoon, when once again faced with waning productivity at home, I decided to take a quick break and dash out for socks and comic books. Yes, that's what I said. But what do I discover? Apparently, I've left my lights on all night and my brand new battery is completely dead.
After dithering for about half an hour, trying to find someone with booster cables, I decide that this is why I have a CAA membership. CAA says that 'the battery people' are busy and it could be two hours, but if I want a regular truck just for the jumpstart, that should be at most an hour. So that's what I do.
Only, without stretching out the story any more, it takes about 2 and a half hours for the guy to appear and jump my car. Which he does, very efficiently. Can't help but wonder if I'd chosen the battery guys they might have made it in the hour. But whatever. Point is, afternoon and evening totally shot as a result of having to drive the car for 20 minutes to get the battery partially charged again. Took the opportunity to drive to Canadian Tire to buy a portable battery booster pack, since I figure if this happened once, it's going to happen Again. Also stopped to buy socks.
So by the time I get home, it's 8pm and I need to get ready for bed so I have a hope of getting up to have some blood work done at 8am so I can see the hematologist (see above) at 8:30.
It's been a long week. But never let it be said I don't get my money out of my CAA membership (readers of this blog will recall my two lockouts in 10 days over the summer). Also never let it be said I don't get my money's worth out of the Canadian healthcare system. Although I'm pretty sure I've now been exposed to more radiation in one day than I have in my whole previous life. But whatever. Hiatal hernia. Car that starts. All is well.
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
The upshot is, I still don't know how real people buy new cars
My slowly dying car has been experiencing, well, an acceleration of the process, so it was time.
I’ve been looking at cars, and the Honda Insight seemed to be the car for me. Hybrid, cool color, company I trust. Went through the whole build-it-price-it on the web so I knew about how much it would cost me, with all the options I wanted. I had a list of options I wanted and options I didn’t and even an idea of what I’d try to get them to throw in (once I spring for the $500 gewgaw, they can damn well throw in the $30 thingamabob, right?).
Only problem is that my friend Ken noticed that when you do build-it-price-it on the web, it only shows you the 2010 model. So, it being the beginning of the 2012 model year, I was prepared to be upsold on the 2012. But okay. I’m prepared. I have a clue about how much should cost, now much I’m willing to pay, etc.
So I figure I’d walk in, we’d haggle over stuff for a couple of hours, and they’d say to come back in six months when the car actually arrived from wherever they arrive from. Well, six months, six weeks, six days, some length of time. At which I would have been prepared with a check for the down payment ‘due on delivery’. This, it turns out, is not want happened.
Ken and I walk into the Honda dealership, and I do what I swore to myself I wouldn’t do. I walk up to the reception desk and say “I’d like someone to sell me a car, please.” I needed Ken there because I felt I was much less likely to have an anxiety attack in front of someone I know.
Anyway, this is how my new best friend Alex enters my life. Alex is a very sweet guy trapped in the body of an intimidating man in a suit. Alex really, really wanted to take me on a test drive because he’d never been in the Insight. It was cute.
So here’s where stuff turns surreal. The production of the 2011 model year on the Insight, if there ever was one, was interrupted by the tsunami last spring. So basically, there isn’t a North American Insight in the 2011 model year, or the 2012 for that matter.
The last three Insights in Manitoba are on the lot. One, perhaps the last one in my color in Canada, is on the floor of the showroom. So if that’s the car I want, that’s the car I’ll take. We looked at what was on it, and it was fine. No leather steering wheel cover, no fancy self-dimming rear-view mirror with integrated compass, whatevs. It’s fine. So there’s basically no upsell. Alex disappears for a while and comes back with a number that’s actually less than the base MSRP of the model.
So I let them sell me some undercoating and an upholstery repair/replace package and that sort of thing, and then the next thing I knew (well, it was 3 hours later) I whipped out a credit card to pay the down payment and they were talking about whether I wanted to drive away with it, wait until tomorrow (Saturday) or what. It was very weird. I had to talk them into letting me come in to pick it up on Tuesday (today) because I was totally not prepared to put it anywhere, given that I hadn’t yet even really begun to arrange what to do with my old car.
Speaking of which after dithering all weekend about green automotive recycling and contributing to the Canadian Diabetes Association or the kidney people or something, my friend Ken called at noon and said he found a wrecker/parts salvager who’d give me $300 for it, so that’s what we did, on the way to the dealership to pick up the new car. Which is a story in and of itself, but the point is, I know have a new car. And I’m hoping the roof of the parking garage doesn’t drip salt on it all night.
Monday, 25 July 2011
Slowly dying car update
More weirdness on the automotive front.
Managed to lock myself out of my car twice in the ast two weeks, which isn't the car's fault, but it's a good reason to be h8in' on the car right now.
The check engine light is back. The shuddery stalling is also continuing. The really odd part was last week, during the Fringe, when it got blazing hot and humid.
I was going to try to tell a chronological story about everything that went weird last week, but I really don't have a good memory for the chronology right now. So unordered list.
So the next day, I added some (premixed) coolant and it was still close to overheating for a day or so, but it was still blazing hot. Yesterday, or maybe it was Saturday, the real heatwave had broken, and we were back to teens and early 20's in the mornings...and I had a speedometer, normal cooling, and even air conditioning. Well, maybe not the air conditioning.
But lat night around midnight, I was out driving and for the halibut I put on the AC. Felt cool (but always does), but the real give away that I was actually getting cooling was the condensation forming on the outside of the windshield just over the vents. The AC was suddenly working again.
So this car is just possessed, by a spirit that really, really doesn't like the heat/humidity. Lucky I have friends now clamoring to come car-buying with me. Hopefully soon. I do not want to be relying on this car all winter.
Next step, check the automatic transmission fluid, just in case....
Managed to lock myself out of my car twice in the ast two weeks, which isn't the car's fault, but it's a good reason to be h8in' on the car right now.
The check engine light is back. The shuddery stalling is also continuing. The really odd part was last week, during the Fringe, when it got blazing hot and humid.
I was going to try to tell a chronological story about everything that went weird last week, but I really don't have a good memory for the chronology right now. So unordered list.
- Air conditioning stopped working (fan still worked, only on highest speed, but no cooling)
- No speedometer (or odo or trip) for a couple of days, in the most blazing heat of the week
- Close to overheating a lot
- Dash lights, headlights, and headlights-on-with-no-keys warning alarm all on, after trying to shut everything off
So the next day, I added some (premixed) coolant and it was still close to overheating for a day or so, but it was still blazing hot. Yesterday, or maybe it was Saturday, the real heatwave had broken, and we were back to teens and early 20's in the mornings...and I had a speedometer, normal cooling, and even air conditioning. Well, maybe not the air conditioning.
But lat night around midnight, I was out driving and for the halibut I put on the AC. Felt cool (but always does), but the real give away that I was actually getting cooling was the condensation forming on the outside of the windshield just over the vents. The AC was suddenly working again.
So this car is just possessed, by a spirit that really, really doesn't like the heat/humidity. Lucky I have friends now clamoring to come car-buying with me. Hopefully soon. I do not want to be relying on this car all winter.
Next step, check the automatic transmission fluid, just in case....
Friday, 8 July 2011
Adventures in Healthcare
I have atopic dermatitis (exzema, 'pre-asthma', chronic/recurrent bronchitis-rhinitis-conjunctivitis, the works). Certain things 'set me off' with rhinitis, bronchitis, rashes and occasional GI disturbances typical of allergic reactions, but rarely the same thing twice, and depending on lifestage things will express differently. Right now it's my legs. When I was little it was coughing-sneezing-itchy eyes.
Anyway, I have had a persistent outbreak of something on my legs, particularly the left one. So it's off to the allergist I go. Gotta love Canadian health care.
So on Tuesday I see the allergist. Get my arms prict with about 70 common allergens, no reactions all around. I get prescribed the world's strongest antihistamine/sedative (well, world's strongest is a gross overstatement, but the sedative effects linger into the following day in a not wholly unpleasant but not particularly work-productive way), a topical gluco-corticosteroid, and get taped with six more potential allergens and told to a) not shower and b) come back on Friday (today).
Well, the air conditioning at home is out, which you know if you've been following my Facebook entries. And it's been freaking hot and humid. So the no-shower thing is a no go. Figured out how to shower without getting my patch test/tape stuff wet, yay.
Anyway, in this morning and the patch comes off, airs for 10-15 minutes and the doctor takes a look. No reactions to anything.
So allergist has confirmed a) I'm not obviously allergic to anything I'm probably eating or coming into contact with on a regular basis, b) I have exzema, and c) what I've done all my life, which is to knock down any symptoms as fast as I can as they come up, is the right strategy. Got a new prescription for a less sedating antihistamine for when I want to get work done. I can take the other one for serious flare ups when having to be entirely lucid the next day isn't a priority (like today, when I'm trying to read a thesis, and next week when I'm counting money at the Fringe 7 hours a day), and I will probably end up back on daily bendaryl just to keep everything down in between.
So no news is good news, like not having Celiac disease either. Which no one has actually told me yet, but I presume since that by now the test has come back and no one has called me saying "never eat wheat again".
So off to shower, anti-inflame and moisturize.
Anyway, I have had a persistent outbreak of something on my legs, particularly the left one. So it's off to the allergist I go. Gotta love Canadian health care.
So on Tuesday I see the allergist. Get my arms prict with about 70 common allergens, no reactions all around. I get prescribed the world's strongest antihistamine/sedative (well, world's strongest is a gross overstatement, but the sedative effects linger into the following day in a not wholly unpleasant but not particularly work-productive way), a topical gluco-corticosteroid, and get taped with six more potential allergens and told to a) not shower and b) come back on Friday (today).
Well, the air conditioning at home is out, which you know if you've been following my Facebook entries. And it's been freaking hot and humid. So the no-shower thing is a no go. Figured out how to shower without getting my patch test/tape stuff wet, yay.
Anyway, in this morning and the patch comes off, airs for 10-15 minutes and the doctor takes a look. No reactions to anything.
So allergist has confirmed a) I'm not obviously allergic to anything I'm probably eating or coming into contact with on a regular basis, b) I have exzema, and c) what I've done all my life, which is to knock down any symptoms as fast as I can as they come up, is the right strategy. Got a new prescription for a less sedating antihistamine for when I want to get work done. I can take the other one for serious flare ups when having to be entirely lucid the next day isn't a priority (like today, when I'm trying to read a thesis, and next week when I'm counting money at the Fringe 7 hours a day), and I will probably end up back on daily bendaryl just to keep everything down in between.
So no news is good news, like not having Celiac disease either. Which no one has actually told me yet, but I presume since that by now the test has come back and no one has called me saying "never eat wheat again".
So off to shower, anti-inflame and moisturize.
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